Lucky me was recently struck with the bubonic plague, the ebola virus, and possibly, though not yet confirmed, whooping cough, all at once, a wild, raging sickness party my exhausted immune system was helpless to resist. Still, like a dutiful worker bee, I dragged myself to work and entertained myself by coughing hysterically and disturbing my co-workers.
Finally, one day, I waved the white flag of defeat, chugged cough medicine, called in sick, and crawled back into bed with a fistful of cough drops, collapsing into Gary’s arms.
Gary hugged me, patted my back as I coughed, stroked my forehead when the non-stop coughing gave me a grinding headache. Holding me tight, he told me, “I know you are sick, and I’m sorry you feel bad…but I’m also really glad you’re home today.”